


I'm Here

by V_e_s_a_n_u_s



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fighting, Fluff and Angst, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, In the Fade, Injury, Mages (Dragon Age), Magic, Major Character Injury, Sloth Demons (Dragon Age), Solavellan, The Fade, The Hissing Wastes, Venatori, solavellan hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 21:46:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15591375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/V_e_s_a_n_u_s/pseuds/V_e_s_a_n_u_s
Summary: Solas is gravely injured during a fight in the Hissing Wastes, and Ellana Lavellan is trying to do all she can to help her vhenan. But sometimes, it's just not that simple.





	I'm Here

They were in the Hissing Wastes, and the sky was darkening as the Inquisition fought back against the Venatori who had taken hold there. The fight had gone on for quite a while when one of the mages, the leader, the Inquisitor assumed, called for them to retreat.

Ellana raised her staff in triumph as the Venatori began to flee from where the battle had begun, ordering her party to chase down the remnants. They focused their attacks on the mages, the most trained and dangerous of the stragglers. They stayed in formation as they ran; Cole first, daggers unsheathed and already coated in blood; then Varric, firing bolts over the duelist; and then the mages at the back, casting spells as they went.

Cole disappeared for a moment, and reappeared behind one of the Venatori, placing a cruel and deadly strike to the neck of one of the spellbinders, the blade sinking deep.

“Eat dirt-err, sand!” Varric shouted, bolt flying through the air at the mages and striking one squarely in the eye.

Ellana was spinning around, throwing balls of electricity from her staff at the Venatori, who had stopped running to attack. From her right, she heard Solas shout “Enough!” as he summoned a boulder and smashed it into one of the Vints.

Their formation was strong, their attacks were swift and deadly… but somehow, someone slipped through. A blade cut through the air and made contact.

The Inquisitor hadn’t noticed, the small cry that left the victim’s lips lost through the sound of the barrage of lightning leaving her staff.

“Help!” Cole cried, “It hurts!”

The Inquisitor’s eyes snapped to the rogue, who was plunging his blades into the back of one of the Venatori, spinning round and catching one of the last assailants in the neck. He seemed fine, albeit scraped, but his eyes were panicked.

One of the remaining zealots came from her right, surprisingly close, daggers dropping. She leapt back, arcing lightning towards him, sending shocks throughout his muscles and making him drop his dagger. She used the blade on the end of her staff and plunged it into him, and his breath cut off with a gargled moan. Her eyes remained on the dagger he’d dropped, which was coated in blood. No one had been _that_ injured, had they?

Her eyes scanned before her. Varric fired his last shot, knocking the last cultist to the ground, dead before he hit the sand. The archer was fine, breathing heavy from the fight but primarily unharmed.

Cole had replaced his daggers on his back, shouting “Vhenan, _please!_ ” at her. She looked at him in confusion as he began running her way. But then she realised, she recognised that from somewhere. She spun around in an instant and her breath left her.

Solas was crumpled, face down in the sand, which was rapidly darkening around him with blood. She sprinted towards him, lifting him up and lying him on his back with trembling hands. It brought the nasty wound into the moonlight. The blade had torn through his flesh as easily as it had his tunic, the cut going deep into his abdomen. The blood seemed black in the darkness, but it was unmistakable.

“Solas!” Ellana yelled, trying to get a response out of him, then pressing her hands over as much of the cut as she could to stop the bleeding. “Oh Creators, Solas can you hear me?!”

The elf’s eyes were almost shut, but she could see his eyes fluttering beneath his eyelids. He was trying to push back against the blackness that was threatening to pull him under. He mumbled incoherently, his mouth leaden and his lips too numb. He groaned softly, there had been a moment of searing pain, and he felt every agonising moment as that blade cut through him, but now it was numb, and that was so much worse. Weakly, his hand lifted up and his fingers reached blindly.

Ellana felt the slight movement of his hand against her arm and she clasped it between her bloody hands. “I’m here, Solas, I’m here.” She laid kisses over his knuckles, “It’s going to be alright. I’m here.” Her voice wavered and she didn’t believe it, looking at all of the blood but he needed something to hold onto, and she did too.

Solas’ mind was pulled under into that inky blackness and he lost all feeling, as if he was floating, far away. And he was so, so tired.

The hand in her grip went limp and her heart clenched. She was not going to lose him like this.

“Does anyone have any bandages?” She shouted, not realising that both of the rogues were right next to her. “Poultices, anything!”

Varric dropped Bianca on the ground without hesitation, seeing the situation was more dire than her, and began searching through his pockets with speed. Cole did not check, because he knew he had nothing, but he did bring one of his daggers out slowly.

“Don’t even think about it.” The Inquisitor snapped, with a look colder than the night air. The spirit looked as if he would argue, but Ellana’s angry and teary eyes made him stop. Instead, he appeared next to the Venatori corpses, searching their bodies for supplies.

The dwarf had a few poultices and some cloth. It would have to do. “We’re going to have to do what we can here, then find somewhere sheltered to properly wrap it.”

“We’re miles from camp,” Ellana said, face contorted in concern. “We can’t move him all the way back.”

“Hey kid, can you teleport him?” Varric called over his shoulder.

The spirit reappeared next to him, with a few bandages, cloth and some herbs. “Not very far,” he murmured. “It is difficult. Jumping without moving, whispering on the winds, and people are loud which make bad whispers, but... he is hurt and quiet. But not very far.”

Ellana was packing the wound as best she could as he spoke, taking solace in the fact she could feel the soft rise and fall of his chest. Barely. When the wound was covered with what Varric has given her, she scanned the horizon and pointed to a rocky outcrop from the ground. “Take him there,” she said to Cole, standing on shaky legs, “We’ll meet you soon.”

Cole stepped forwards and gently put his hands on Solas, and in a blink of an eye, they were gone, leaving only a dark, wet pool of blood sinking into the sand. Ellana half-sobbed but coughed it away, slowly picking up the elf’s staff.

“Are you alright, boss?” Varric asked softly as Ellana sped away, towards the rock where she could see Cole had reappeared.

She’ll admit, she’d panicked for a moment there, but the priority was making sure Solas got through this. He would. She had to be strong for him so they could fix him. Then it would be okay. She only cursed herself for not knowing any healing spells. She shook her head to rid it of the rising fear in her throat once more, and replied, “I’m fine.”

“Chuckles will be alright. We’ll sort this out. We always do.” She wished that comforted her.

 

* * *

 

By the time they reached Cole, Solas’ face was ashen, even with the spirit keeping pressure on the cut in his side. He was speaking to him softly, knowing that he could hear subconsciously, even if he couldn’t understand or respond. The rogue hoped it helped, it was difficult to hear him, Solas’ mind was so far away. He was worried and scared, he wished he could do something more.

“How is he?” Ellana’s concerned eyes scanned his.

“He is distant,” The spirit replied, “I don’t know where he is, but he’s alive.”

She breathed a controlled sigh of relief, kneeling next to him. “I don’t suppose either of you knows how to dress this? No? Typical.”

“No need for healers in the Merchant’s Guild,” Varric quipped as she started unravelling a bandage in her hands. He glanced at Cole, crouched next to her with an intent expression, and continued. “Or the Fade, apparently. Don’t mages do healer… training… things?”

“I’m a storm mage, Varric,” Ellana peeled off the cloth that had been shoved over the wound in his side, her hands shaking.

“I know that, Sparky, I just thought maybe…” He sighed. “I don’t know, elves just seem to have more of an affinity for this kind of stuff.”

“I’ll be sure to make use of my elfy powers when the opportunity presents itself.” She gave a pale smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Lightning isn’t exactly useful here, though. Only real use is for resuscitation.”

She pulled her leather water flask off of her waist and poured it onto the wound. She cleaned it carefully, as if Solas was still awake enough to feel pain. She looked at the herbs that Cole had given her, almost crushed in the death grip she had them in as they ran to the outcropping. She could only hope that they were healing, or at least had some beneficial effects.

She paused. “None of these are poisonous, right?” She pulled out a spidery root. “And this isn’t deathroot? Right?”

Varric’s eyebrows drew together and he took the pale, winding plant from her hand. He inspected it, then sniffed it and crinkled his nose. “Well it doesn’t _smell_ like deathroot…” he said slowly, handing it back to the Inquisitor.

“And what, exactly, does deathroot smell like?” Ellana said shortly, taking the root back and inspecting it more herself.

“I don’t- well, death, I suppose?”

Ellana sighed but Cole raised his faraway eyes and caught hers. “They’re helping herbs. They want to heal not hurt. I wouldn’t give you the herbs that hurt. Those mages… had a lot of herbs that hurt.”

She gave the spirit a small smile. “Thank you, Cole,” she said, turning back and packaging all the herbs in under a small bit of cloth. Using one of the larger pieces, she wrapped around his waist to keep it in place, tying a small knot to ensure it was held firm to the wound.

Ellana sat back on her heels, taking Solas’ hand in her own. “There’s nothing else I can do.”

“We need to get a proper healer,” Varric said gravely, which was an odd expression coming from the usually jovial dwarf. “No offence, boss.” He added after a heartbeat.

She ran one of her hands through her hair anxiously. “We still won’t be able to move him. Not far enough to make a difference.” Her eyes scanned the unconscious elf’s face, grey and unmoving. “We could get back to camp, come back with the horses and supplies. Bring the healers. They could get something done.”

Varric nodded, rising slowly. “We’ll go. You stay with him.” Ellana looked up and gave him a shaky smile. “Come on, kid.”

Cole gave a bright smile to the Inquisitor. “We will come back. With help.” He stood up quickly. “He is still far away, but he can hear you. Speak to him. He likes the sound of your voice. Like birdsong in the Fade, like chimes in a storm-”

“Alright, kid, we’ve got to go quickly if we’re going to make any difference.” He reached up and gave the spirit a playful tug on his sleeve, pulling him away. “You stay safe, Sparky. We’ll be back soon.”

“I will, Varric. You too.”

 

* * *

 

She watched the two rogues walk away as the sky began to turn from dark blue to black and their darkening silhouettes became blurry and ultimately merged with the darkness around them. Ellana felt a tear dampen her cheek and she brushed it away quickly. Just because her followers weren’t around to see it, she wasn’t going to allow herself that kind of weakness. Solas was still there. He would know. She took a shaky breath.

_Solas is still here._

She steeled herself and grabbed her staff, which was glowing softly, providing the only light. She needed to make a fire. She hadn’t realised how cold it had got, and the rapidly encroaching darkness soon wouldn’t be held at bay by the dim blue light from her staff.

The elf glanced around the immediate area, holding her staff high to cast the light as far as she could without wandering far from Solas’ side. From where she sat, she could see two bundles of witherstalk. She left her staff next to Solas and walked in the general direction of the two herbs, feeling around on the ground until she found it. Even if she couldn’t find the herbs, she’d be able to find her way back.

But fortune smiled on her, or she just remembered where the plants were, or even that her large elf eyes were more attuned to the dark - either way, she found the witherstalks quickly and made her way back.

Ellana knelt down and arranged the brittle and twig-like herbs to make a small fire. She brought her fingertips down to the base of the herbs and sent out a small spark. The plant glowed softly and went out. She sighed and drew on a bit more mana to form a larger spark that caught and developed into a small flame.

She smiled triumphantly and rearranged herself next to Solas again, watching the flame develop into a fire with a cocked head. She never knew that witherstalk burned blue before. She turned her gaze towards Solas again.

She had never felt more helpless.

She took his hand in her own again, pressing her lips softly into his knuckles. His hands were cold. She tried not to think about that. She couldn’t do anything else to help and she hated it. She drew on some mana and created a warm aura around her hands. Softly, she rubbed her hands over his, trying to heat them up in her own.

“I don’t know what happened.” she murmured, surprising herself with her voice in the silence, and before she knew it the words were pouring out of her. She spent so much time bottling everything up, that in the silence with no one to judge, she found she couldn’t stop herself. She didn’t know if she wanted to. “One moment, everything was fine. We were winning: they were retreating. The next… What happened? How did they get to you?” She felt his hands warm and ran her thumbs over them softly. “Was it… was it my fault?

“Our formation was so tight. I can’t- We must have made a mistake somewhere. I… I should have _seen_ it. I should have _known_.” She let out a shaky breath, staring up at the blackened sky, eyes teary. “You know, it’s silly. You had me convinced… Ever since I met you, you’ve had this aura around you. Untouchable. Like nothing could get to you. Like nothing could _hurt_ you. Even after we... we kissed in the Fade, you were still so distant. You had me convinced you were _immortal_ , for Creators’ sake. Yet here we are. _And it’s my fault_.

“I’m sorry. I can’t do anything more. _I can’t help you_. I probably messed this up too,” she said angrily, gesturing to the patchwork bandages around him. “I asked myself once,” she half-choked and shook her head, “What I would do if anything happened to you. Turns out I’d just break down.” Her eyes fell to his face, his closed lids. She thought how he would look at her if his eyes were open. Would they be disappointed? “I don’t know what I’d do if you… if you…” She shook her head again, fighting to stop the tears that were already spilling down her face.

“I need you,” she said without breath. “ _I need you._ ”

She sat in silence for a few moments, gripping his hands in hers. She glanced down and saw her knuckles turning white in her grip. She let go, so his hands only lay loosely in hers, the warming spell long forgotten.

Her voice was shaking and low when she spoke again. “I’m trying, Solas. I’m trying to be strong, I’m trying to keep you safe. But…” She took a steady breath. “But I need you to try too. Try for _me_ , vhenan.” She brought his knuckles to her lips again, murmuring into them. “Try for me-”

Pressure. Slight. Very slight pressure on her fingertips. Barely there, but she felt it. So soft she thought she imagined it, but _no, she felt it_. He squeezed her hand so softly from far away.

“Solas?” she cried, squeezing his hands tightly, fresh tears spilling unbidden. “I felt that, I’m here. I’m here for you, vhenan!”

She dried her eyes on the back of a sand-encrusted sleeve, ignoring the angry particles she scratched into her eyelids. She gave his hands another reassuring squeeze. “ _I’m here._ ”

* * *

 

He didn’t know where he was. It didn’t _feel_ like the Fade, but it certainly wasn’t real. It was different, wrong. Warped in a way he couldn’t describe. Everything was grey, twisting and ethereal, like smoke underwater. He couldn’t focus on anything. He didn’t know what this was, he didn’t know where this was, and he didn’t know why he was here.

It was very rare that Solas _didn’t_ know something. He didn’t like it.

Suddenly the fuzzy haze around him formed a picture. A figure amidst the murky grey, kneeling over a body - a corpse, most likely. The figure was shaking, and he soon realised through the mist that it was a woman- no, an elf - who sat crying silently.

Suddenly there were words, frightening at first in their volume, all around him. “I don’t know what happened.” He heard the voice say, and he realised they came from the elf in front of him.

He walked towards her, the voice too loud and too quiet at the same. He needed to know who it was. His feet stuck to the floor as he walked, allowing only sluggish steps to be taken, as if he was walking in a marshy bog: the mud sucking his feet back down as he lifted them.

“Was it my fault?” Resounded in his head, making his ears ring.

Something was wrong. He didn’t know what but that wasn’t right. He tried to walk faster but the figures seemed ever further away.

“I should have known.” The voice was resigned, shaking but grim.

He was frustrated. This wasn’t right. _This wasn’t right._

He was so close. He was so close and so far in this realm of grey and nothingness and impossibilities but he could  _see_ her now. He could make out the back of her head through eyes that had fog behind them, morphing what he could see and not see. But he was close. He knew it.

Just a couple more steps…

“It’s my fault.”

He stopped in his tracks. He could see her face now, her wet eyes staring at the sky and her face full of sorrow and he  _knew that face._

Ellana. _Vhenan_.

Everything came rushing back to him.

_Solas was spinning his staff round in his hand, then planted it firmly on the ground, throwing a boulder across the field and into one of the Venatori. He turned his attention to a rogue, light on his feet who was sneaking past their formation, had already flanked Cole and was sneaking up behind the spirit. He cast spell after spell his way, blocking his path, knocking him over, when suddenly the rogue refocused his efforts towards him. All it took was a misplaced step and there was a blade sinking into his flesh._

_It had been a while since he had felt pain. He hasn’t missed it._

_He felt the skirmish around him end and everything went quiet. Then there were people talking to him, touching him, but they were too far away. He tried to speak, to move: he struggled with all his might but all that came out was a soft groan and a twitch of his fingers. And then he was being pulled under into that inky blackness._

He fell to his knees opposite his body, opposite Ellana. He tried not to look at how pale he looked, how lifeless his face was. He reached out to touch her but his hands phased through her. He sighed in frustration.

“It wasn’t your fault.” He said, hoping she could hear. “It isn’t your fault. You did everything you could, and you still are.”

He saw her eyes drop to his lifeless face. “I don’t know what I’d do if you… if you…”

“I wouldn’t want to live in a world without you.” He murmured softly, wishing she could hear him. “You’re special. I know that, I’ve always known that.”

“I need you.” She sobbed.

His eyes pricked. He wouldn’t cry. Not here, not in a place like this. “I need you too, vhenan. If only you knew how much.”

She fell silent. He reached out to her, running ghostly fingertips across her cheek, cupping her face. He sighed softly and looked around.

If he could get out of here, he could tell her. He could tell her how much she meant. Tell her that it wasn’t her fault. That it’s all okay. It’s going to be okay.

He stood up, drawing as much energy in as he could and sending out a pulse of arcane energy. The area around him lit up for a moment, and he _felt_. For a moment, he could feel Ellana’s fingertips against the backs of his palms.

He gasped in surprise. He hasn’t expected it to work. But he _felt_ and he needed to feel again. He needed to wake up and hold his vhenan again.

He checked his mana reserves and he could feel his energy levels as incredibly low. But maybe… maybe enough for one blast, enough to get a message to her, that he was still in there, he was still alive and still fighting…

Maybe it would be enough.

Suddenly, four words rang out in his head, as clear as day.

“Try for me, vhenan.”

And when he heard those words he threw caution to the wind. He drew in as much power as he could and released it at once, and it blasted out of him, making the whole world white and shake.

“I’m trying!” He shouted as loud as he could into the nothingness.

 

* * *

 

There was nothing else after that first response from Solas. She was beginning to think she imagined it. Nevertheless, she sat there, tensed, running her thumbs soothingly over the backs of his hands. She didn’t know if she was trying to soothe herself or him, but she did it nonetheless.

So little had happened, in fact, that she hadn’t even noticed she’d fallen asleep.

She wandered throughout what looked like a forest; tall trees stretching upwards, a thick green canopy above her. She walked slowly and methodically, avoiding holes and upturned roots, following where her feet took her. She was searching for something. _Someone._

She glanced up again but this time noticed the pale green sky beyond the trees. She was in the Fade, she knew that now, and although she knew it was dangerous, she couldn’t help but be excited that she was here. Normally, she was always fascinated by the Fade, or the Beyond, as she knew it, and the spirits who dwelt there, but today she wasn’t just looking for the secrets held here.

Solas could be here.

And if he was, Ellana was going to find him. There was no doubt about it.

So she walked. And walked. She walked until her feet were aching but she was still no further into nor out of the woods. The trees seemed to stretch on endlessly, taunting at her attempts to progress. The green light made her eyes hurt but there was no relief from its luminescence: it seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, shining from the trees, from behind rocks and from the very ground beneath her. But still, she kept walking. She had to.

It felt like hours later, where she came to a small clearing. She glanced around but there was no sign of anyone. Only a large rock placed slightly off centre. Ellana sighed. This had been the first thing she had seen besides trees and mud and she thought maybe, _maybe_ this would lead her to him. But it was just another dead end, another taunt called at her from the Fade.

She walked around the boulder, tired eyes fixed on the path ahead, when she heard a small noise. Like a whisper of a whisper. She turned around.

Propped up against the boulder, previously hidden from her, Solas was hunched over, one arm raised weakly, reaching for her with energy he didn’t have. Ellana rushed over to him, placing a flurry of soft kisses on his forehead.

“Solas!” she cried, “Thank the Creators, you’re okay!” She fussed over him for a moment, singing her gratitude to the skies, but then stopped. He hadn’t moved since she had touched him. “Solas?”

She gently cupped his face in her hands and lifted it. He looked exhausted. His eyes were tired, pleading with her through slits. His face looked haggard, dark circles beneath his eyes and he was so, so pale.

She hugged him tightly. “It’s going to be okay, Solas. You’re going to be fine. Varric and Cole went to get help. They’ll be back soon. Everything is going to be okay.”

Ellana was worried. She dreaded to think how drained he must be to have his mental projection of himself be so weak. His mouth was moving, trying to speak, only gasps of air leaving his lips.

“No, no. Don’t speak. You’ll tire yourself out.” She held him to her. “I’m here, don’t worry. You’re safe.”

As those words left her mouth, or maybe _because_ of what she said, she heard a rumble from behind her, and as she turned to look she saw a Sloth demon hauling itself from the ground with long, lazy limbs. It swaggered forward a few steps, one very old, very tired eye fixed on the scene before it.

“She’s right, you know,” it said, a slow drawl falling from lips it didn’t have. “You are safe. Safe to recover, safe to breathe. Safe to rest, too.”

Ellana stood slowly, putting herself in front of Solas’ crumpled form. “We don’t want you here. Go.”

“You don’t want _me_ here?” A long, cracked and drawn-out sigh turned into a laugh from the creature in front of her. “ _You_ come to _my_ house and ask _me_ to leave?” It took another slow step forward. “You are but… _visitors_.”

“Then we’ll go.” She said shortly, turning around and reaching for Solas.

“No… no….” The demon said, and she looked over her shoulder warily. “I don’t think he wants to leave. Just to rest. Just to… _sleep_.”

Her eyes snapped back to Solas, who she was half-propping up. He was leaning towards the demon, eyes blankly staring but tired and transfixed. The demon wasn’t wrong.

“Solas,” she shook him gently, “Solas, listen to me. We can’t stay here. We have to go.”

The elf didn’t respond.

Ellana gritted her teeth and laid him down gently. She spun on her heel and pulled out her staff. “Enough!” she shouted, slamming it down on the ground so sparks shuddered across the ground. “You will not take him.”

The sloth demon snarled and recoiled at the light erupting from the staff, but recovered quickly, probably the only thing it had ever done with haste in its long life. “So be it.” It spat, lunging towards her.

The mage was faster, twirling away from its grasp quickly, bringing her staff down to collide with its skull with a soft squelch and a sickening crack, before charging it with lightning. The demon wailed in pain and reached out blindly behind it to reach her. She was moving again, slowly, this time, drawing deeper from her mana to cast a larger spell, hoping to knock it down for good.

The demon was up faster than she expected, black ooze dribbling down one side of its face and its eye wild and angry. It was drawing closer, its movements slow but its claws were sharp and slashing at her long before its body reached her. She turned again, but she was slowed by her casting and one of those razors caught her arm, tearing the flesh and she cried out.

It chased her, swinging its arms at her, talons aimed at her face, attempting to attack her whilst she was still dazed. But she had finished casting. Before it could even try to swing again, she was barraging it with blasts of energy that knocked it to the ground. One final arc of lightning and the demon shrieked and then stilled, before its amorphous body slowly sank into the ground.

Ellana panted wildly, her eyes fixed on the place it disappeared, ready for it to be a trap or an illusion, but after a few moments of nothingness, she put her staff down, leaning on it for support. She brought her hand to the cut on her arm and pressed. It was deep, but not life-threatening. She didn’t have to worry about her mind being destroyed from that wound, anyway. She was relieved but still kept the pressure on. She didn’t want to take any chances and end up as the Tranquil Inquisitor.

She used her staff as a crutch as she made her way back to Solas. His eyes were closed but he was still there. He wasn’t gone, he wasn’t… dead. Not yet. There was still time.

She knelt down next to him. “Solas, can you hear me?” She asked softly, bringing his head into her lap. The elf didn’t respond but his eyes fluttered behind his eyelids. Ellana let out a sigh of relief.

Before she could even catch her breath, there was a loud voice, all around her. She could feel herself being pulled away. She gripped onto Solas tighter but it was too late, she was leaving.

“I’ll be back for you!” She cried before everything was blinded in white.

 

* * *

 

“Over there!” Varric shouted over the sound of galloping hooves, and pointed so that the rider of the horse knew where they were headed. Naturally, they wouldn’t give him or Cole their _own_ horse… not that he was really complaining.

Varric saw the soft, blue fire before anything else, and _thank the Maker for that_. He wasn’t sure if he could have found it without it. He glanced over at Cole as they rode closer, sitting on the back of one of the healer’s horses, eyes faraway, as usual. The kid might’ve known where the Inquisitor was. He hadn’t _said_ anything that meant he did, but Varric never could tell with him. But he could deal with the cryptic clues from the rogue, it was kind of endearing, in a weird, cryptic sort of way.

They were still riding fast towards the outcropping of rock where the fire was, stopping only a couple of feet from the two figures. Solas was lying, still as a corpse, just as they’d left him. The Inquisitor had curled up next to him, her face stained with tears and sand.

Varric knew she was sleeping. He knew that. That didn’t stop the pang of worry that entered his mind at the sight. Seeing her lying next to Solas, who looked, frankly, like shit, didn’t put him in the most optimistic of moods. But the healers were here now, and he prayed to Andraste that they weren’t too late.

Varric made to dismount, constantly cussing and cursing at the horse for being so tall, and landed on the ground ungracefully with a loud thud, in the time both of the scouts had dismounted and begun to survey the area. He brushed his knees off, readjusted Bianca on his back so that she wasn’t digging into his ribs (because to be honest, Bianca, that was _quite rude_ ), and headed towards the small camp.

He heard the thudding of the other riders dismounting as he knelt down next to the Inquisitor, shaking her shoulder gently. “Inquisitor?”

The two healers rushed over, past him, talking in a medicinal language he didn’t quite understand but hoped to replicate in his next serial. He never had got around to asking Blondie about it, and now… now he didn’t want to think about that exhausted and underfed mage ever again.

The rumbling of unfamiliar voices and his persistent touch on her shoulder seemed to rouse her from her sleep. Her eyes shot open and she sat up with a start.

“Easy! Easy there, Sparky,” he said gently with a small smile, narrowly avoiding a headbutting. “You wouldn’t want to hurt your favourite dwarf now, would you?”

“Varric?” She said, surprised, looking around. “Oh! You made it back!”

“Yep, me and the kid,” he gestured over his shoulder with a thumb to where Cole was standing with his arms crossed, worried gaze fixed on Solas with a slight frown. That expression didn’t look hopeful for the elf the healers were working over, but Varric redirected his attention to Ellana. “Brought the healers back as fast as we could.” Varric was aware that the sky was much lighter now, soft greys with light streaks of green darting across, so it had still been several hours, but they couldn’t have gone any faster if they’d tried, which, by Andraste, they _had_. He continued softly, giving Solas a wary look. “I only hope it was fast enough.”

“He’s still there,” Ellana replied slowly, gaze also on Solas and the healers fussing over him with quick motions. “I spoke to him, I found him in the Fade. He’s weak, but he’s alive.”

Varric’s eyebrows furrowed, never quite understanding what happened in the Fade but really not worrying too much about it. He and Solas may not always have got along, but he was glad to hear that he was okay.

“The Inquisitor is right,” Cole spoke up suddenly, eyes still on the elf, like the rest of them. “He is still distant, but close. Closer than before. You helped that.” He glanced at her. “He was far away but he tried, he came back for you. And then you met him in the Fade, and brought him closer.” He nodded slowly, thoughtfully as his eyes trailed over to the dwindling fire, the last embers fizzling out. “His mind is brimming, moving, _living_ under the surface, like a wave ready to crest, to break free. He needs some help, but he’ll get there.” He added with finality.

They fell silent after that, Varric mostly because he didn’t want to jinx it. There was this one time, back in Kirkwall, where Hawke… His mind quietened at the thought. It turned out he didn’t want to think about anyone from Kirkwall right now. It was like he said to Cassandra: things were bad back home.

The healers had redressed the wound, with proper bandages this time and actual salves instead of ‘homemade’ ones. The man Varric rode with stood up and called one of the scouts over. Together they unpacked a long board from the side of the horse that had been digging rather uncomfortably into Varric’s thigh as they rode.

As they brought over the board, the Inquisitor and Varric moved out of their way so that they could lie it next to Solas. Within minutes, they had moved Solas carefully and cleanly onto the board, and were about to lift it when one of them seemed to change their mind. The healer turned to face them, his face platonic.

“He is gravely injured, but we have done all we can for him here. He should pull through, he has a strong spirit.”

“That he has,” Ellana murmured softly, not taking her eyes off of Solas’ blank expression.

“He has the best chance of surviving if we get him back to camp, then we can see about getting him back to Skyhold for the long term.”

“Thank you,” Varric said quickly, when he realised the Inquisitor wasn’t going to reply, still lost in thought. The man nodded respectfully and then turned back to lift the board.

They didn’t talk as the board was strapped between the two horses so it could be transported safely. They sat there, in silence. They were relieved, for sure, but it was all conditional. He _should_ pull through; the best _chance_ of surviving. It was nothing, but it could mean everything.

Could any of them dare to hope?

“We’re not going to be able to fit anyone else on these horses with us anymore,” the other healer said, a couple of moments later, gesturing to the boards taking up most of the saddle room.

“Don’t worry about us,” Varric said, before adding, “You should take the scouts too, they can protect you. We wouldn’t be able to fit all five of us on a horse anyway.”

Both of the scouts perked up at that, and came back to where their horses were sniffing the ground for any trace of vegetation that survived in the dry sand. All four of them bowed deeply to the Inquisitor, then mounted their horses. Ellana looked up slowly as they horses began to move and watched them leave.

“Come on, Sparky.” Varric offered her a hand and she took it, standing up slowly. She rubbed her face with the back of her sleeve again, trying to get at least _some_ of the sand and tears off. “You okay?”

“I’ll be fine, Varric,” she gave a small smile, “Thank you.”

They watched the horses disappear as the sun rose, giving the two rogues the first rest they had in several, long hours. Varric looked to the sky as it warmed, as the grey turned into orange and then pink as the sun peeked over the horizon. He couldn’t have written it better himself, he thought wistfully, watching dawn break, that after such a dark night there would be such a beautiful dawn. They were over the worst of it now. And although Solas still wasn’t awake, things were looking up.

That put a smile on the dwarf’s face.

“Kid,” he said, turning to the spirit, “You up for some more walking?”

Cole smiled in response, saying only a simple, yet happy “Yes.”

“Come on, then. We better get started ourselves.” Varric looked to the horizon once more, where the horses were just disappearing and to the sky beyond which was brightening. “It’s going to be okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed it! Let me know what you think! [▪‿▪]


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